I'm Not Me Without You
by yollom.amen
Summary: A sequel to The Only Thing Left... set after the events of 5x10 Rated T for now.
1. Despair

A/N _I have decided to continue writing this whole Chuck/Blair thing. This will all be what I hope happens not what I think or expect to happen because that would involve Louis and Blair getting married and all that jazz so… yeah, love reviews and opinions! Also DAIR fans, please don't get your hopes up as my feelings towards that are… well… doesn't matter._

3 weeks had passed and Blair was still in the hospital. Although there hadn't been much damage to _her_ body, there had still been fatal damages.

Her baby, the baby she was going to raise with Chuck, was gone.

Banished from existence.

The child's future had been completely erased. She (or at least what Blair wanted to believe would have been a she) would never cry, wouldn't laugh or smile. She wouldn't be dressed in mini Chanel or Louis Vitton and be fed literally from a gold spoon.

She would never go for walks in Central Park to feed the ducks with her tiny hands squeezed in her parents' larger ones. She wouldn't be taught how to tie a bowtie by her father which, apparently was necessary to know.

She wouldn't go shopping with her mother, buy her first pair of Loubitons, or have a first crush. She wouldn't be given stern looks of concern for going out with said crush by her over protective father. She would never get married, have kids, grow old.

She would never be happy, and it was all Blair's fault.

She knew she was being irrational but she couldn't help it. It was karma for all those years of scheming, lying, deceiving and manipulating. It wasn't coincidence that her partner in all of this had been with her. And, truth was that Chuck, in between his 'underage boozing and womanizing' as she had once put it and everything else he had done, was the worse of the two and… look at him now.

At night this was all she could think about. Her head would start spinning, breathing became shallower, heart sped up which in turn sent the monitor beeping alerting the nurses.

Her mother, father, Cyrus, Serena, Dan, Nate, everyone really who visited her thought she was depressed because of the baby, and she was. But what she could barely admit to herself, let alone everyone else, was that she was so in despair because of Chuck. While they all knew that she had been in the car with Chuck, none of them really knew that she had chosen him over Louis except for Dan.

She continues to roam the hospital day by day. She would go into Chuck's room and sit in the visitor's chair. She would comb his hair, shave him, spray him with his cologne, hold his hand. Her desperate eyes never left his closed ones, always hoping they would open.

At night she lay on the edge of his bed, head rested against his chest, rising and falling with his breathing. She would shut her eyes and ignore the beeping of the monitors, the distant voices of doctors and patients, the needle in her arm which connected her to her IV. She would just lay there, pretending.

Pretending they weren't in some tiny bed with noisy springs, but in Chuck's king sized bed at the Empire. She would imagine her baby, _their_ baby cooing in a cot in the corner. She would pretend that there was no Louis, no accident, no drama whatsoever to be dealt with. She would simply pretend.

Until a nurse pulled her away from the love of her life, into a wheelchair and back into her jail cell. There she would close her eyes and slowly wither away.


	2. Visitor

'Blair, you've got a visitor.'

Blair had had visitors all week. Eleanor and Cyrus had come with Harold and Ramon. Serena had come with Nate following behind. Dan had come all on his own, back to his _Lonely Boy_ status. Even Rufus and Charlie came along with a basket of waffles in hand.

Everyone had come.

Blair sighed and motioned to the nurse to let the visitor in. It was probably her Mom with the newest editions of_ Vogue_ and some of her favorite _Laduree_ macaroons as usual.

But it was not her mother. Not _Blair's_ mother.

'Lily,' Blair whispered.

'Oh, Blair! You poor thing…' Lily slowly stepped into the room taking in Blair's appearance – the swollen lips, the bruised eye, the cast around her arm… and the missing bump.

'How are you, my dear?' she queried in a motherly fashion.

'I don't know Lily, I really don't,'

Blair was still shocked at seeing Lily's face. If there was anyone nearly as upset over Chuck as Blair was, it was Lily.

'Well, of course you don't. I'm sure you've had dozens of people ask you that by now. How are you… dealing, with the baby and all?'

'I'm coping,' Blair answered, looking down at her hands, fidgeting. She had been avoiding thinking about the baby all week but it had all just built up behind an invisible barrier and she could just feel her dam about to burst.

'What am I **saying**? I'm not coping! I'm devastated. Worse, I'm numb. I can't take any of it in. I'm in agony because I feel like I should be feeling worse about it all but I don't! What kind of a mother am I, Lily! Or… well… not a mother, but…'

And then she was crying.

Heavy sobs came from deep within her. Every tear was made up of grief, despair and loneliness.

She missed her baby. She missed Chuck.

No matter how full a room was with people, she would be lonely, until… or if he woke up.

'Oh, Blair,' Lily sat on the edge of her bed and cradled her head. 'It'll all be better soon. I know what it's like to lose a child and I know what it's like to lose the man you love. I understand you. Don't be ashamed of your feelings, you're overwhelmed. You have every reason to be. You lost your baby and now you can't find Charles. He will come back to you Blair. He will. You just have to hold on.'

'You're such a good mother, Lily. I don't know how Serena turned out the way she did.'

'Yes, that is something I still haven't figured out. But what I do know is that you will be OK. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But one day you **will** be alright.'

'I know Lily, thank you.'

Lily could not help but pity the girl. Her hand subconsciously rested at her abdomen, face paler than the moon – she was tragic.

Her and Charles were the strangest and yet most perfect fit. They both had so many flaws and yet this somehow made them understand each other better and accept each other for who they were. There was no judgment, no explanations needed for what they did, because they knew.

They knew each other. They were like an old couple who had been together for 50 years and could read each other like a book.

They were meant to me.


End file.
